Page 15 of The Fall

“Dallas, I never expect anything from you. You are too unpredictable,” he remarked, looking for our waitress and gesturing for her.

“I was never unpredictable, and I was nineteen,” I said, taking a long sip of wine.

He chuckled as he watched me. “Then you were twenty. Don’t forget that I know you. I bet you’re still an unbelievably cocky pain in the ass, Dallas Whitaker.”

“You knew me,” I retorted, finding that same lack of air that had tortured me a day earlier. Dean paused, and for a brief moment, I saw something in his eyes before it vanished.

“So, OB, that’s an interesting field,” I added, trying to change the subject. Though we had history, I was trying my best not to reminisce. We’d parted under the worst circumstances, and I definitely didn’t want to rehash that tonight. “Do you enjoy it?”

“Never a dull moment,” he said, catching my eyes briefly.

“Hmmm, well, you always were passionate about the needs of women,” I paused with a smirk to watch him stiffen in his seat. “So, tell me about your fiancée. What’s her name?”

“She’s a cocky pain in the ass.” He chuckled as he gave the waitress our drink order. It thrilled me that he remembered and ordered my favorite wine.

“So, she is just your type. What’s her name?”

“Helena,” he said quickly, re-situating the napkin on his lap. It was clear he didn’t want to discuss her.

Tough shit.

“Is she a doctor, too?”

“Yes, she is,” he answered curtly. I watched him shift his gaze to the window next to us as he stared at the people on the street passing by.

“Did you meet her at Columbia?” I questioned, taking another sip of wine.

“Dallas, what’s with the questions?”

“Just curious,” I said, sinking in my seat, an old pain in my chest moving to the surface. “So did you?”

“Yes, my first year.” My eyes snapped to his as I swallowed the lump in my throat. He didn’t miss my calculation.

“I’m just trying to get to know you again. I’m also curious about the woman who tamed the infamous Dean Martin. Definitely a first.”

“She wasn’t the first,” he whispered, almost inaudibly.

I ignored his remark with more sarcasm. “Was she aware the merchandise had been test driven by half of Texas and the eastern seaboard?”

“I wasn’t that bad,” he said, crossing his arms with a smirk.

I just gave him my best ‘you’re full of shit’ eye roll.

I took a sip of my wine, finishing my glass, and pointed to my order on the menu, catching him eyeing me through his tumbler of scotch.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Dallas.”

I choked slightly on my mouth full of fermented grapes and thanked him as I recovered.

“You are…so damn beautiful,” he said more to himself than me. I stared at him, unable to keep my chest from rising and falling rapidly. My thighs clenched with the way he looked at me—like he wanted to take me right there. I couldn’t stop staring back. Everything I’d dreamt about for the last seven years was sitting across from me at the table, looking at me as if he was thirsty and I was the very last drink of water.

You hate him.

“Stop it,” I said dismissively as our plates were placed before us. I finished my steak at neck-breaking speed and watched him scoff at my blatant disregard for the proper fork and the art of chewing.

“I remember Rose eating like this, but you?”

“Yeah, yeah.” I ignored him as I devoured the rest of my plate and ordered a huge piece of seductive chocolate cake for dessert. We made small talk, mostly leading to dead ends. I fumbled with a few words under his gaze as I caught it throughout the meal. Dean’s eyes were a clear blue. Much like Josh’s, they had an effect on me. Yet Dean’s did things far worse to me. After a few years apart from Dean, I was almost sure I’d romanticized so much about our past. Now, after staring at him across the table, I knew I hadn’t imagined a thing. And he was no longer living in a foreign land I could never reach. He was within my grasp and looking at me like he used to. I was sure I was doing the same.

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